Methodist Central Hall, Storey's Gate SW1

I've never been sure what to make of the Methodist Central Hall. It was deliberately designed not to look like a church so heathens would not feel detered from entering, and the design competition specified a non-Gothic style to avoid competing with Westminster Abbey.

Matthew

Mark

However, the design, by Lanchester and Rickards, is not just secular - much of the symbolism is actively militaristic. Bunches of spears, arrays of Roman swords, helmets and flags. This would not be surprising on a Government building in the England of 1905 when the design was started, but it is very odd for Dissenters with their tradition of pacifism.
The high point from an artistic point of view is the pair of angels at the centre of the main facade. By Henry Poole, they float serenely in lovely calm over the bustle of the tourists in Parliament Square.

John

The entablature on the giant order of columns on the Central Hall is eccentric to say the least, with windows and the symbols of the Gospel writers. The eagle is John, the ox is Luke, the human, Matthew and the lion Mark.
I originally assumed they represented the the continents but that is clearly wrong.

Luke

It is not clear who is responsible for them, but Henry Poole was busy with the angels so I imagine they were designed by H.C. Fehr who was also involved with the project.

27 Southampton Street WC2

27 Southampton Street dates from 1707  but its main interest is, unusually, the plaque over the front door put up in 1900 to commemorate the residency of the actor, impressario and Shakespeare idoliser David Garrick.for nearly 30 years.
The plaque is unusual on several counts. Firstly, its quality and cost (it is cast bronze). Secondly, unlike most plaques it is the work of a top-flight sculptor, Henry Fehr. And thirdly, it was paid for by the freeholder, the Duke of Bedford, who was not known for his generosity. He even got his personal architect, Charles Fitzroy Doll, to sketch out the design.
A bust of Garrick circled with a laurel wreath stands on a plinth with the inscription. On either side stand two Muses, helpfully labeled. Less helpfully for today's Londoners, the labels are in Greek, but one of the advantages of a scientific education is a working knowledge of the Greek alphabet so I was able after only a bit of head-scratching to identify them as Melpomene (left) and Thalia (right).
Melpomene, the Muse of Tragedy, holds her dagger in her right hand. She traditionally also carries a club but Fehr clearly thought that would be rather unladylike so she holds a slim, elegant mace with a crown hanging round it instead.
Thalia holds the mask of comedy and a shepherdess's crook. Both are sad and pensive

Supreme Court, Parliament Square SW1

One of the amazing things about the former Middlesex Guildhall is that it is stone faced on all four facades, even though two of them look over narrow Little Sanctuary where most clients would have imposed a bit of economy and gone for brick or encaustic tile. But the minor facades of Middlesex Guildhall even have sculptural ornament, an unbelievable excess.
The keystones of the windows on the north side of the building show the kind of people who thronged medieval Westminster: a monk with a book, a scrivener with a scroll, an armourer with a knight's helmet and a goldsmith displaying a goblet.

  

Supreme Court, Parliament Square SW1

The window keystones on the right of the main facade of the old Middlesex Guildhall show Agriculture. Up to Victorian times, Middlesex was covered with small farms and market gardens supplying the city with produce. Cobbett hated it. In Rural Rides he fulminates: "All Middlesex is ugly, notwithstanding the millions upon millions which it is continually sucking up from the rest of the kingdom....the soil is gravel at bottom with a black loam at top near the Thames; further back it is a sort of spewy gravel; and the buildings consist generally of tax-eaters' showy, tea-garden-like boxes and of shabby dwellings of labouring people...dirty, and have every appearance of drinking gin."
From left to right, the first four figures are growers of wheat, hops, fruit and grapes. Then there is a bloke holding an animal that I'm not confident in identifying. It seems to have either trotters or hooves, so it could be a piglet or a lamb. The next figure along, however, is clearly a shepherd with his crook, so I am going with piglet until presented with evidence to the contrary.

Supreme Court, Parliament Square SW1

The mouldings over the ground floor windows on the left hand side of the main facade of the old Middlesex Guildhall are decorated with figures connected with the River Thames. The old geezer with the trident must be fishing for eels, as then he would fit in with the rest of the trades, but Fehr has clearly taken the opportunity to make him do double duty as Old Father Thames.
From left to right:

Fishing with nets for salmon and trout

Kelping

Spearfishing for porpoise, seal and sturgeon

Woman with her hand on the bow of a boat

Fishing for eels (the trident is dug into the mud and the eels are trapped between the tines)

A fishwife takes fish to market.
As ever, let me know if you think I have got any of these stupidly wrong.

Supreme Court, Parliament Square SW1

The main entrance of the old Middlesex Guildhall is marked by three friezes by Henry Fehr. Over the arch is Henry III granting a charter to Westminster Abbey - the king stands at the left next to the Abbot, who I like to think is Philip de Lewisham (Abott in 1258) purely because his name is so unlikely. A Benedictine monk (Westminster was a Benedictine house), a cardinal and the Archbishop of Canterbury also appear.
On the left, the scene is the signing of Magna Carta by King John. He is backed by a couple of bishops (no fewer than eight bishops were there, including the Archbishop of Canterbury, Stephen Langton), a couple of monks and assorted Barons. Curiously, neither of the blazons on the shields correspond to those of any of the twenty-five barons at the event - perhaps they are members of the royal household.
The frieze on the right shows Lady Jane Grey accepting the crown of England on the death of her cousin, Edward VI in 1553. Her husband, Lord Guilford Dudley, stands behind her, and I think that must be her horrible mother, Lady Frances Brandon, behind the crown. The crowd of men presumably represent the Protestant nobility who pushed her onto the throne, including John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, Guilford's dad.
Unfortunately, the conspiritors underestimated the power of Edward's elder sister Mary, who mounted a counter-coup. By the end of the year all had been executed. Lady Jane was still in her teens.
I find it difficult to understand why these two last events were chosen for a building designed to celebrate Middlesex. Runnymede is in Surrey, and Lady Jane Grey had no links with the county at all. It seems to be simply Edwardian romanticisation of the past.
Right in the middle is a small panel depicting the Great Hall at Hampton Court, for some reason, with a tiny figure of Law on each side. To left and right of the central frieze are statues of Prudence and Justice, under ornate canopies.

Supreme Court, Parliament Square SW1

The main tower of the Supreme Court (formerly Middlesex Guildhall) has an arch of figures by Henry Fehr with Britannia (unusually with a sword rather than a trident) flanked by (from left) Architecture, Literature, Government, Music, Truth, Law and Shipping, a heterogeneous but virtuous group. Above them stands St George.

Supreme Court, Parliament Square SW1

I'm ashamed to say I nearly missed these charming little chaps, rustling through the thistles above the throng of tourists in Parliament Square. I was looking at the major sculpture on the newly-revealed Supreme Court (formerly Middlesex County Court, formerly Middlesex Guildhall) and had passed over them with a mental shrug of 'floral fillers' when a small girl pointed up and cried to her family "Look - mice!"And so there were. And squirrels, adders, a bird, a salamander and a fox. What beauties.

The Middlesex Guildhall was built in 1912, an astonishingly late date for the Gothic style, but it was felt to be appropriate for the surroundings of the Abbey and Houses of Parliament. The architects were J.G.S. Skipworth.

The detail was designed by E.P. Skipworth and the main sculpture, including massive historical pageants on either side of the main entrance, were by Henry Fehr, but it is unclear if Fehr did all the carving or whether Skipworth designed the minor stuff including the little creatures and a firm of architectural sculptors did the work.

More on this remarkable building later.